Ice Breakers
by ASKessler
Summary: Fire Island: Sound like a warm place? Think again. This is a slash fic for MesserFlack


Title: Ice Breakers  
Author: A.S. Kessler  
Dedication: To K.H. - Top41, for her input and beta  
Spoilers: Spoiler-free  
Rating: M (NC-17) Sexual situations/slash Danny-Flack  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Not making any money on it. Just for fun.

CSI: NY

"You guys gonna be okay?" Pete Massey looked at the two bundled men as he guided the police boat into the dock. "Not much activity out here this time of year."

"I can see why," Danny said loud enough to be heard over the roar of the boat engine. The wind seemed to rip through him despite his heavy coat. He figured his own temperature was hovering somewhere between chilled and freezing his 'nads off. The metal of his glasses burned against his face. His fingers felt numb in his gloves and he suspected it would only get worse when he had to switch to latex. Maybe two pair...

Next to him, Detective Don Flack patted the boat pilot on his back. "We'll be fine," Don told him. "This could take awhile; if you can't wait around, we can call you back."

Pete nodded. "Might just do that, but the sooner you two can finish the better. There's a storm coming in... dunno how long the seas will cooperate." He pulled up to the dock and threw the line down to the waiting officer. The man on the pier looked as cold as Danny felt.

Danny picked up his kit and started for the point where he could get onto the pier. Don followed him.

"Welcome to Fire Island," the waiting officer told them. "You get my directions?"

Danny flipped open his note pad with his hastily scrawled notes on it. "Take the police boat to the docks at Fire Island at the Sayville dock station. I'm guessin' that's here. Take the Atlantic Walk to Fire Island Blvd and hang a left. Take FLB all the way to Sail Walk, then continue past until we run out of boardwalk. Walk down the beach, hugging the Great South Bay waterline approximately a mile until the shore curves into an inlet. The body's by the inlet about five yards from the water."

The officer nodded. "Sounds right. We'd buggy you down there but everything's put away for winter. Most of the residents winter elsewhere; you should pretty much have the place to yourselves. If you hit Water Island's boardwalk, you went too far." He pointed to several items on the boardwalk behind him. "I got together everything I thought you might need... there's a sled for moving the body, several plastic bags, rope, blankets."

"But you didn't touch the body?" Danny asked. He wasn't about to waste their time or bust his ass if the whole scene was compromised.

The officer shook his head. "No, all I did was radio it in. Found it during a routine sweep; no telling how long it's been there."

"How often do you patrol here?" Don asked. He looked around at the nearby houses, most of which had been closed up for winter.

"Daily," the officer told them. "We come through here daily but mostly stay to the center of the island when going from unit to unit. Island's only about 400 yards wide, give or take. It was just an odd chance that I happened to spot the body at all; there's nothing between Fire Island Pines and Water Island but sand and surf and shrubs. There are call stations set up on the boardwalks for anyone needing help but we're pretty remote here. No cars, no trash pickup, no grocery stores. What comes in is brought in and what needs to go out gets hauled back out. Fire Island is a National Seashore breakwater; it's one of the only things separating Manhatten and Long Island from the Atlantic."

"Thanks for the geography lesson," Danny groused. "If I'm walkin' a mile in the freezin' cold, I wanna get started."

"Two miles," Don reminded him. "One there; one back."

If a glare could have dropped the temperature any lower, Danny's look at Don would have made it happen. Don shuddered and pulled his coat higher up around his neck. The patrol officer had already given his contact information when he called in the body. He now headed in the opposite direction as the detective and the CSI as he went to finish his rounds.

He'd had the foresight to wear boots. As Danny walked over to the supplies, he wished he'd had the foresight to wear a snowsuit... or become a CSI somewhere warmer. He mused for a moment about Horatio Caine having an opening in Miami as a sudden blast of cold arctic air burst between the buildings and right into him. He tossed his kit onto the sled and started tugging it up the mostly-shovelled boardwalk.

Don caught up with Danny and took the sled rope from him as they walked. "Man this is some winter we're havin', huh? It must be ten below out here. And the snow..." He looked over at Danny, who was giving him another icy glare colder than anything coming in off the Atlantic. Something occurred to him. "Didn't you bring a hat?"

Danny made a left turn onto the boardwalk. The boardwalks were just that: board-walk-ways. Wide enough for a small dune-buggy to drive on, they were the sidewalks and streets of the island. They were built several feet above the sandy surface and many were edged with backyard fences from the houses. Smaller walkways led to individual residences. "No, I didn't," he said over his shoulder. "It's not this fuckin' cold in the city."

Don pulled something out of a pocket and nudged Danny. "Try these," he said.

Danny stopped and looked at the item in Don's hand, then into Don's ice blue eyes. Suddenly it wasn't quite as cold as it had been two seconds ago. He took the ear warmers and slid them behind his head and over his ears. "Thanks Don," he said.

"I admit partial self-interest," Don told him. "I don't want you getting sick; you're a pain in the ass when you're ill."

Danny smirked at him. "Look who's talking, Mr. crank-the-thermostat-up-to-ninety-and-make-out-his-will-when-he's-got-the-flu Flack. You got chicken soup ordered in!"

"What's your point?" Flack countered. "Look, Messer, just because you cook more than I do..." his thoughts trailed off as he saw a row of houses all sporting a rainbow flag somewhere outside. "I didn't know this place had a strong gay community."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, I'd read that somewhere. They also have nude beaches in the summer."

Don grinned. "Remind me to drag you back here next summer. I can have my way with you on the beach."

Danny shook his head. "Think again, Flack. I don't do sex on the beach; sand gets places where sand don't belong. Besides, it might not look too good having two of New York's finest runnin' around naked on a beach."

Flack smirked. He had to wonder whether Danny was just uptight about being nude in public or if it wasn't something deeper. "Since when are you worried about the public image of the department?"

Danny shrugged. "Since Mac's been riding my ass more than you lately, and that's sayin' somethin'. I've always had image on my mind; lately it's being driven home and put to bed instead of on the shelf." He reached the edge of the boardwalk and looked out at a large, vast lot of snow, sand, shrubs and surf. From where he stood, he could make out the Atlantic clearly. Waves crashed onto the shoreline about a hundred yards out to his right. The Great South Bay lay somewhere off to his left, out of sight but definitely there. Gray clouds loomed heavy overhead and just as Danny stepped off the pier, it began to snow. "I can't screw this up, Flack; it's all I have." He looked up at the sky as the few flakes started to intensify. It just went to prove that someone up there was out to get him.

Flack patted Danny's back. "You won't," he reassured his friend. "I've got your back, remember?"

Danny smiled. He'd already had the pleasure of a couple of Flack's 'lessons' about the detective 'having his back' and had to sit gingerly for several days post-lesson. "I remember," Danny told him. He started walking slowly down the beach, his feet sinking into ankle deep snow.

The walk turned into a trudging march. Flack pulled the sled behind him and brought up the rear. He had the slight advantage of walking in Danny's footsteps. On the other hand, Danny had to work his way through the sand and the snow, which had not only started falling harder and faster, but was now piling up. He'd spotted the Great South Bay shoreline and continued following it. "If we don't get there soon," Danny shot over his shoulder, "the snow's gonna bury the body."

"How far've we gone?" Don asked. He looked back and could barely make out the boardwalk where they'd left.

"Had to tell," came the reply. "Thousand yards, give or take."

"We should be almost there," Don started to say. He watched as Danny seemed to stop short.

"We're there." Danny's ice blue eyes turned to study the form that lay before his feet. The body was female, young, perhaps early twenties. She was partially buried in the snow but from what Danny could tell, the cause of death was likely strangulation. There were marks around her neck and obvious bruising. Danny set to work immediately. He was cold and didn't want to stay out there any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Time of death's gonna be a bitch to figure out because of the weather," Don muttered. He watched as Danny squatted down to take photos of the body's position and the surrounding conditions.

"Yeah, and it ain't gettin' any better either," Danny quipped back. "Looks like that storm that was comin' in arrived." He glanced around for signs of footprints but quickly realized it was futile. Whatever the snow wasn't burying, the wind was wreaking havoc with. Footprints would have been blown over by the wind. He snapped off a few more pictures. "We're not gonna get much here," he stood slowly and handed off the camera to Don. "Prints are gone... even the cop's footprints are blown away. I think we're gonna have to let her body do the talking for us this time. Let's get her loaded up and figure this out someplace warmer."

Don handed Danny several of the plastic bags and the two men carefully wrapped the young woman's body and got her transferred to the sled. As Danny packed the rest of his gear around the body, Don looked out at the water. "We better call for the boat soon or they're not gonna be able to get back to get us."

Danny stood and looked out at the water too. The wind had picked up and snow was falling so hard, he couldn't see much past the shoreline. Ice had formed on this section of the waterline and stretched out several yards. His eyes tracked near where the body had been and something caught his eye. He reached into his kit for a fresh pair of rubber gloves and snapped them on as he walked the short few yards to the water's edge.

Don watched Danny move toward the shore and followed his direction. There was something out on the ice about ten yards out. Danny had reached the waterline and put one foot onto the ice. Don's instinct kicked in. Something told him this was a bad move. "Hold it," he told Danny quickly. The CSI's gaze turned and two sets of blue eyes met. "Danny, I don't think it's safe for you to be going out there," Don told him. "You don't know how solid that ice is."

"That's why I'm going and you're not," Danny replied. "Between us, I'm lighter than you are."

Don couldn't find flaw with that argument but something in the pit of his gut gnawed at him. Dealing with ice wasn't something that the detective encountered on a regular basis. He knew there was something you were supposed to do when you didn't know how solid things were, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

Danny stepped out onto the ice at the shoreline. The frozen water crackled lightly under his feet but it supported his weight. He slid one foot out slowly ahead of him, then the other, testing the ice carefully with each tenative step. He was about seven yards out when he could clearly make out the item ahead. It appeared to be a rope and it had a reddish stain on it. "I think I may have found the murder weapon," Danny called. He slid another foot forward and the ice beneath him creaked loudly. Danny froze.

Don heard it too and also froze in place, although he wasn't anywhere near the ice. "I'd ask if you want your camera but I'd be afraid to add anymore weight out there," Don said. "Maybe you should come back and snap off a few with the telephoto lens."

Danny shook his head. "It's a rope," he announced. "There's something red on the edge. I think it's blood."

"Wouldn't the water have washed away anything useful?" Don asked. He was really starting to worry.

"Maybe not," Danny replied. The ice quit creaking and Danny slid his foot forward again slowly. The frozen ground seemed stable. "If it's frozen, we may be able to get a recoverable trace once it's thawed."

"Danny..." Don held his breath. Danny had reached the rope. He bent over to pick it up, only to discover it was partially frozen into the ice. He'd need something to chip away at the top layer. A quick frisk of his pockets turned up his cell phone and a pen. He had one hand on the rope and had just opted for using the pen when a sickening crack sounded. The ground seemed to open all at once and swallow him up. One second Danny Messer was standing on the ice; next second, there was a huge hole where he'd been standing.

The absolute cold of the water was the first thing that hit him. It bit into him sharper than any knife blade. He gasped, then tried to cry out but no sound came forth. His eyes lost all focus; all he could see was light and dark. He couldn't think. Nothing on his body seemed to want to work. Light... dark... cold... If the afterlife was decided by light and dark, Danny knew where he wanted to go, and where he actually belonged. If there was one honest bit left in his body, he'd go where he should. He'd go where it was dark.

As soon as he broke the surface of the water again, Danny drew in a ragged, rasping gasp of air. He'd managed to come back up in the hole he'd make when he went in. From the shore, he could hear someone yelling.

"Danny! Danny!" Don took two steps forward onto the ice and the whole thing cracked under him. He finally remembered that thin ice required a body to lay to more evenly distribute weight across the surface. Now it was too late; there was no way in hell that the ice would support him, even laying down. His own heart had seemed to stop when Danny fell through the ice. The odds of Danny finding the exact spot he went in to resurface were slim. Once he saw Danny's head reemerge, a new reason for panic set in. He had to get Danny out of the water and quickly. Don took several more steps forward. He was now soaked to the knees and his feet were instantly numb. He wasn't going to reach Danny by going in after him. "Danny, hold on!" He splashed out of the water onto the shore and made a dash for the sled.

For a fleeting minute, Don thought about dumping the body into the snow and using the sled as a makeshift boat for Danny to grab onto. Then, his eyes fell on the rope that lay among the blankets. He snagged that and ran back to the water. Faster than he ever thought possible, Don knotted one end of the rope and tossed it out toward Danny. "Grab it!"

Danny grabbed hold with both hands but found that he couldn't keep a grip on it. Oddly enough, he still had something in one hand that he couldn't seem to let go of. It was a rope. '_I have a rope_,' he thought. '_What do I need with another one?_' The logic made perfect sense to him.

"Danny!" Don was practically screaming at his friend and lover. "Grab the rope! Grab it! Hold on!" He was starting to wonder if he was going to have to go out there and attempt a personal rescue. More than likely they would both die if he tried that. He watched Danny's right hand flail clumsily until he finally managed to snag the rope just above the knot. "Danny! Loop the rope around your arms. C'mon!" He had the strangest feeling of deja-vu one could have, only this time height wasn't an issue... depth was.

Danny managed to loop the rope around his arm once. As soon as he did, Don pulled for all he was worth. Danny's body shifted out of the water and onto what was left of the ice, then slid along toward shore. Several times the ice cracked out from underneath him and assorted parts of Danny were resubmurged. Finally, when Danny was close enough, Don reached out and grabbed hold of Danny's wrist and pulled sharply onto the shore.

Wrapping an arm around Danny's waist, he half-walked, half-dragged the smaller man toward the sled. Danny still had his left hand fisted around the potential murder weapon. Danny had been unable to open his hand up fully after being submurged. Even now, his muscles didn't seem to want to obey.

As soon as they reached the sled, Don started to strip Danny of his clothing. The man wasn't shivering which Don took as a bad sign. He hadn't been in the water a total of ten minutes and already he was showing signs of hypothermia.

Danny made several feeble attempts to swat at Don for fussing over his clothes but wasn't able to connect and do any serious damage. Here he was cold and wet and out in the middle of a blizzard and Don was trying to take his clothes off. There was a time and place for everything and stripping in the middle of a snowstorm wasn't right.

Don decided that taking frozen clothes off of Danny had to be simliar to undressing an infant: both were helpless and struggled enough to make it difficult. As soon as Danny was totally naked except for his socks, Don wrapped him up in a blanket, put his own hat over Danny's wet hair, then punched a hole in the closed end of a trash bag and shoved that over Danny's head, bringing his head through the hole. He then proceeded to get Danny prone on the sled and wrapped him further with blankets and plastic. Lastly, he pulled off Danny's socks, wrapped his feet up in the last blanket and stood to take stock of their situation.

They were a mile in either direction from any sign of life. The storm that was predicted was raging full-force and he had not one, but two bodies to pull back, as well as Danny's gear. He was soaked to the knees, both of his gloves were wet, he'd given Danny his hat and for the life of him, he couldn't locate his cell phone. There was nothing around to shelter them from the wind and nothing with which to make a simple fire. Just wind, water, sand and snow, one dead body, one dying body and a handful of hardware. Don Flack felt very alone right then.

It took the sound of Danny's whimper to bring Don back from his zoned-out state. Danny wasn't even remotely coherent and if he wasn't warmed up soon, he'd likely die of hypothermia. Things were grim but they weren't totally lost. Don knew that as long as he still drew air into his lungs, they weren't licked yet. He did the only thing he could: he took the rope to the sled, turned it around and headed back the way they had come.

Every time Don thought he couldn't take another step, he thought of Danny and of telling Mac that Danny was dead because he'd fallen through the ice. He thought of spending countless nights with nobody to razz about competitive sports, nobody to shoot hoops with, nobody to curl up with after working a hard case. Those thoughts made him burn inside and he found the energy to push on. "Hang on, Danny," he said, more to himself than to Messer, who had passed out about ten minutes into their journey back. "Just hang on. After I haul your ass back to the docks, you'd better not fucking die on me... ya hear me?"

Through the driving wind and snow, Don thought he saw something up ahead. Sure enough, he could finally make out the boardwalk in the distance. His hands and feet were numb and his lungs burned with every breath he took. However, seeing the boardwalk gave him that last bit of energy he needed and he stumbled through the shin deep snow toward it. "Made it," he breathed. Don glanced back at the sled and knew that his celebration was just a bit premature. Danny's skin had taken on a blueish tinge and snow had started collecting on his face around where Don's hat met his skin. Don dropped the rope, trudged back to the sled and shook Danny as hard as he could. "Danny! Danny! C'mon man wake up! Danny!" He lightly smacked Danny's face until the man made a garbled, strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a moan. Don knew that he had to get them both inside and quickly.

The first beach house lay just a few yards in from the edge of the boardwalk. Don grabbed up the rope again and yanked the sled onto the boardwalk and over to the building, then pounded on the door with a closed fist. "Please be home," he muttered. "Somebody... anybody..." He pounded again and was met with silence. In fact, the only sounds around him were that of the wind, the waves on the ocean and the snow falling in soft piffs all around them.

He peered in the windows. The house seemed dark and deserted. He vaguely remembered the patrol officer saying that many of the occupants wintered elsewhere. Don looked around at some of the other houses. They all appeared as this one did: closed up and deserted. His conscience tugged at him. Was it really okay to break into someplace... break the law... to save someone's life? He made the decision in a fast heartbeat. Danny groaned once and Don retrieved a flashlight from Danny's CSI kit and knocked it through the glass panel next to the door. He reached in carefully and flipped the lock, then pulled his arm clear, turned the knob and shouldered the door open.

"Anybody home?" He shouted once more. "NYPD." It didn't hurt to play it safe. After all, neither of them needed to get shot for breaking and entering; they could freeze to death just as easily. When he was greeted with silence once more, he went back to the sled and pulled it right up to the door. A small awning covered the doorway, sheltering it from the various elements. The body wasn't going anywhere and Don figured that the cold would preserve it better than if he dragged the whole sled inside. He picked Danny up and carried the frozen man into the house and shut the door firmly with his foot.

The house wasn't exactly warm but it wasn't bitter cold either. Don set Danny down on the sofa and went to flick on the light. Nothing happened. '_Shit, no power_,' Don mused. He crossed the room and headed into the small kitchen where the phone sat on the countertop. He picked up the receiver and held it to his ear: no dial tone. '_Phone's turned off. Need a break here..._' He went over to the sink and turned on the water, then breathed a huge sigh of relief when the faucet sputtered before spilling water into the sink. He turned on the hot water tap and was relieved when the temperature of the flow changed. It was the break he needed.

Don retrieved the flashlight from where he'd set it down and used it to investigate the surroundings. The house was small, with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living area, small kitchen and and a nook for a dinette. From what he could gather from the contents of the two rooms, both occupants were male. It was only the second thing that seemed to go right for them. As he fished through drawers, however, he was slightly dismayed to find a genuine lack of warm clothing anywhere. '_Summer place; summer clothes... figures._' He made a quick look through the closets and found a couple of spare blankets. He tossed them onto the bed, then went to retrieve the blankets from the bed in the other room.

A few short minutes later, he went back to check on Danny. The man was no more coherent than he had been since he'd gone through the ice and only marginally conscious. "Danny?" Don tapped his cheek gently. "C'mon Danny... I need you to help me out here... Danny? Danny!"

Danny groaned. He felt tired. He couldn't think clearly. And someone kept yelling at him, calling his name. He wondered fleetingly what it would take to shut this person up and just let him sleep. Something nudged his face again. _Danny!_ Danny groaned again. "Shaddup already," he muttered. His thoughts sounded perfectly clear but for some reason the actual words came out slurred, as if he were drunk. Funny... he didn't _feel _drunk.

Don smiled when Danny told him to shut up. It was just like Messer to grumble; he was not a morning person by any means. The only problem with that was that it was now four-fifteen in the afternoon, and they were losing daylight fast. But Danny's grumbled 'shut up' was the first coherent thing he'd said and Don happily accepted it as a good sign. He tugged at the trash bags that he'd wrapped Danny in, tearing them off the smaller man's body.

It took Don several minutes to de-mummify Danny's body, and the CSI was no more cooperative in the unwrapping than he had been in being stripped and bundled in the first place. Don's own fingers were now throbbing and he didn't even want to think about his toes frozen in his boots. He stripped Danny completely and laid him back on the couch while he started to tug off his own cold, wet clothing. He knew that his skin was cold, but when he picked Danny back up, he was startled to discover that Danny's whole body was cool to even his touch. '_Not a good sign,_' he thought. He carried Danny to the bathroom and set him down on his side on the floor of the shower stall. He then stepped in with him and turned on the water.

He started the spray off cool. The hot water would burn both of them if he were to set it at what they'd both normally shower at. Even the cool water felt hot to Don's frozen fingers and Danny yelped when the spray hit his body. Don eased himself down behind Danny and sat the man up between his legs, focusing the shower spray on Danny's chest and head. Danny choked and sputtered, then leaned back into Don with a loud moan. "What the hell...?"

"Easy baby," Don said gently. "Easy does it... just warm up for me, okay?"

After a couple minutes, Danny shifted onto his side and nuzzled his cheek against Don's chest hair. He coughed a few times, then groaned.

Don frowned and reached over to turn the water temperature up just a bit, then reached down and stroked Danny's shoulder and back with his long fingers. He didn't like it that Danny was coughing already, although he figured the man probably inhaled some water when he first went in. Everything he needed to do danced around in his head in a frenzied disorder. He needed to call for help... but his phone was missing, Danny's had taken a dive, the phone in the house was disconnected and the hotel was still a hike away in a raging blizzard. When they didn't return from the crime scene, Don knew that Mac would eventually send out a search team. That seemed the most viable option to him right then; they'd sit put and stay warm until help found them. The next thing would be keeping both of them warm in a summer house with limited heat and clothing. There was enough heat in the house to keep the water pipes from freezing. He'd found a few candles to burn and there were bowls he could fill with a little water and set a candle in so that he didn't risk falling asleep and burning the place down around them. He'd thrown every blanket he could find on one bed; the two would share body heat. He'd have to close up the broken window with something to keep the wind out. The body would be fine outside and it was a pretty good marker. They had water and could easily go twenty-four hours without food.

The most important thing that remained foremost in his mind was the man he held in his arms. He had to find some way to warm Danny up enough for the man to maintain his own body temperature. Don checked the man's pulse in his wrist and found it to be frighteningly slow and weak. He then checked the one in his neck and found it to be a bit stronger. Danny's head and chest were starting to thaw and Don felt the first bit of relief since Danny accidently went swimming.

A quick glance around the shower rewarded Don with a small bit of soap in the soap tray. He picked it up and lathered it in one hand, then glided both his hand and the soap over Danny's shoulder and arm.

Danny made another noise - a cross between a whimper and a moan - as Don started to manipulate him. He was comfortable, warm and didn't want to be disturbed. He could hear Don's heart beating hard in his chest and Danny actually felt safe. His senses started returning slowly. At first, he thought he was in his shower at home but the soap didn't smell like what either of them used. He let out one more little whimper then managed to get out, "Where are we?"

If Don could have lept for joy without dumping Danny on his nose, he would have. Instead, he pulled Danny up a bit further in his arms and held him snugly. "Fire Island," Don replied. He didn't have a better answer right then. "We're in a house trying to warm up."

Something about that registered. _Warm up? Right, he was cold. Fire Island? Why were they on... ohhhh yeah_. "Body?"

"Outside by the front door," Don told him. "Figured the cold would preserve it."

Danny's neurons started firing off in his brain. _They had arrived by boat and had to leave by boat_. "Boat coming?"

Don was so thrilled that Danny was forming coherent, rational thinking that he kissed the man on top of his wet head. "No, Danny," he admitted. "We have no way to contact them. When we don't check in, they'll come looking. We just have to hang tight and stay warm until then."

_No way to contact the boat. They were stranded. _"How long?"

Don sighed. "I don't know, Danny. Probably not until the storm lets up. My guess is morning." It had been starting to get dark when they first got to the boardwalk. By now, night would have fallen and judging by how dark it seemed in the bathroom lit only by the glow from the flashlight, he was pretty sure it was dark outside.

"M'cold," Danny murmured into Don's chest.

Don felt a twinge of something he couldn't identify. It killed him to hear Danny was cold and he was doing everything he could to help. He reached over and nudged the water temp up again. It wouldn't be much longer before they were out of hot water. "I know, baby, I know..." Don rocked him gently in his arms. "Hang on, okay? Soon as the hot water runs out, we'll get out and I'll put you to bed and find another way to keep you warm."

A thought ran through his head just then and Don reached behind Danny between his legs and felt for the man's testicles. Sure enough, they seemed to have drawn up close to his body. It would be an odd barometer to gauge Danny's body temperature but a good one. Don was determined to get Danny's balls warm enough to drop back to normal. It wasn't really ethical but right then ethics had to take a back seat to life and death.

The water started to cool off and Don reached over to turn it off before it got cold and struggled to get up and bring Danny with him. "C'mon Messer... you complain that I'm always carryin' you. Help me out here."

Danny struggled to get to his feet. Even with Don helping him, his muscles didn't seem to want to cooperate. Don wrapped a towel around Danny's waist and tossed another over his shoulders. He moved quickly to dry the water from Danny's skin, even before doing his own. Once Don was sure Danny could move under his own power, he nudged him toward the bedroom. "Go get into bed and under all the covers... g'wan."

When Danny headed for the bedroom, Don dried off quickly then went to retrieve his wallet from his pants in the living room. As an afterthought, he picked up his coat and shoved it into the opening of the broken window, then got two large pillar candles and two bowls and brought them into the bedroom. He took the bowls into the bathroom and filled each half full of water, then set them on the dresser away from everything, set the candles in them and lit the wicks. Finally, he turned and looked at Danny in the bed. Danny had curled into a ball and the only thing sticking out from under the blankets was his nose and mouth. Don finally moved to the edge of the bed, pulled a condom from his wallet and set both on the nightstand, then crawled in next to Danny and pulled the smaller man close to him. Danny was shivering now and he buried his head into Don's chest, trying to draw body heat from his friend.

Don kissed his head once more and let his hand trail over Danny's shivering body. He was cold too but being so close to Danny had his heart pumping. He slid his hand gently across Danny's skin, down his abs and between his legs. "Bet I could warm you up, Messer," he whispered. His fingers wandered over Danny's testicles again and he gently wrapped them in his one hand for warmth.

Danny groaned quietly. "You wanna twist sheets? Here? Now?" Don's gentle touches indicated his mood and intentions and had Danny wondering if his wasn't the only brain frozen.

Don found himself chuckling at Danny's comment. 'Twisting sheets' was one of Messer's newest expressions for the two of them having sex, carried over from the one time the two of them got hot and heavy and became tangled up in the sheets so badly they almost had to call for extraction. He leaned over and dropped light kisses along Danny's scruffy jaw. "Would that be a bad thing?" he murmured behind the kisses.

Danny tried to find some bit of logic to answer that and came up empty. "Guess not," he replied. "M'just not real coherent." His body seemed almost willing enough; his brain still needed thawing.

Don grinned. "You don't have to do anything but lay there and get all worked up," he promised. "I like listening to you whimper, remember?"

"I don't whimper," Danny mumbled.

"Sure you don't. You claim you don't cuddle either but you do with me."

"That's not cudding," Danny argued. "When I do that, I'm just using you to lean on."

Don wasn't buying that for a minute, but if Danny Messer wanted to believe that he didn't cuddle or whimper or do any number of other cute little quirks Don knew he did, that was fine by him. He rolled Danny's testicles in his hand and Danny's legs parted slightly. It was a bit of a relief for Don that his friend and partner was at least responsive to his touch. He reached up and took Danny's member in his hand and gently rubbed the underside. It took several minutes but as Danny relaxed and focused on Don's attentions, his body began to respond. His cock stiffened and his legs opened a bit wider. A quiet moan escaped his lips. Don leaned over and captured the moan with his mouth. His tongue probed inside and danced around Danny's mouth.

Danny's tongue played lazily with Don's. He let his friend explore his body. In turn, Don was warm and gentle and... a bit of an enigma. Don could be such a hard-ass sometimes and so rough in bed that, if Danny hadn't been a willing participant, it could be considered rape. Other times, he could be as gentle and tender as a light breeze that kissed the treetops. Normally Danny didn't spend a lot of time figuring out his personal life because it gave him a migraine, but more often lately he found himself wondering about Don, what made him tick, why they were as close as they were and where they might be going. A good looking woman would turn his head in an instant, yet even the mere thought of Don in someone else's arms left an unsavory taste in his mouth. Don could kiss him dizzy sometimes. In fact, he was feeling pretty dizzy right then. He turned his head slightly and broke his lips away from Don's, drawing air into his lungs.

Don smiled. "Gotta breathe through your nose when I kiss you, Danny." He took a minute to study the man next to him. Danny's eyes were closed and his eyelashes rested gently against his skin. Danny had beautiful eyes for a guy; brilliant blue with a spark that could light up Manhatten. A small bit of hair grew from his upper lip and chin that was starting to form into a moustache and goatee. Don ran the back of his finger across that light bit of hair on his chin. He thought Danny looked a bit older with it; it gave him a bit of a harder edge. Danny always seemed to have this air of danger to him; the facial hair seemed to add to the element. He leaned down and kissed gently under Danny's chin, then continued down his throat, across his adam's apple and into the hollow of his throat. Don circled his hand gently around Danny's ever stiffening cock and kissed across his chest until he reached one of Danny's nipples. He first licked across it with the tip of his tongue and the little bud immediately hardened even more than it had been. Danny tasted salty; it wasn't his usual skin saline salt but more like salt water from the bay.

A small sound escaped Danny's mouth and Don took that as a sign to draw the hard little bud as deep into his mouth as he could. Danny's back arched off the bed and his hips rocked into Don's hand. Don smiled and broke the light suction. "You taste like the bay," he said quietly. "Do you have any idea how scared I was when I looked over and you weren't there... there was just this gaping hole where you'd been standing. Hmm?"

Danny groaned again quietly. Nothing good ever happened to his body when the first words out of Donald Flack's mouth were '_do you have any idea how scared I was_...' In fact, he usually ended up black and blue. "Don please don't spank me," Danny practically begged. "Please. I... don't think I can handle it. I'm sorry."

"Shh," Don turned Danny's cock loose long enough to bring the back of his hand up to caress Danny's cheek. "Shush, baby... I won't. Don't be sorry, Danny; you did what you had to do. I'm just glad I was able to get you out of there. And now I'm gonna warm you up and I won't hit you. I promise."

Don wet his finger and slipped it back between Danny's legs once more, further back until he brushed across that familiar ring of tissue. He rubbed across Danny's hole a couple of times, then pushed just the tip of his long finger inside.

Danny let out a quiet gasp as Don penetrated his body, then a quiet little groan of pleasure when he pushed in a bit further. "Ahhhh Don, God, what're ya doin' to me?"

Don nipped along Danny's ribcage, working his way down toward Danny's hip. He pushed his finger in as far as he could and brushed it across Danny's prostate, then eased it almost out of his body before going in deep once more. "Gonna stretch you out a bit," Don told him, his voice low and seductive. "Only lube we have is what's on the condom so I want you nice and relaxed for when I rock your world."

Danny vaguely remembered the one time they'd had sex without benefit of lubricant. It was the first time they'd been together. Neither had planned for it to happen; it had been a heat of the moment sorta thing. He remembered that it burned most of all, and right now, something burning sounded pretty good.

Don slid his finger in and out of Danny until he felt that his lover was relaxed enough to add a second finger. Danny's quiet noises told him he was pushing all the right buttons. He scissored his fingers apart slowly as he worked them in and out. He kept nipping at Danny's hip until finally he nudged Danny's semi-erect cock with his nose, then lowered his mouth around the head.

Danny felt Don's mouth around his cock and went from slightly stiff to erect. Don's mouth was warm and inviting and the pressure he put on it left Danny panting. He reached out to touch Don; he wanted to feel Don's skin under his hand. When he touched Don's cock, the detective nearly jumped out of his skin. He quickly removed Danny's hand. "Danny... baby... lover... I'll take care of that. Your hands are cold. Just lay back and relax."

"All of me's cold," Danny mumbled. Don put his mouth back down on Danny's erection and darted his tongue into the slit. Danny's hips cleared the bed again. "Except that," he groaned. "That's warm."

Don smiled and took Danny deep into his mouth. He eased his fingers back and added a third, then propped himself up on his side on one elbow so he could reach his own hard member. Danny's cold hands had almost made him go soft; the man's extremities still felt like ice. But now, his chest was warm and his cock was hard and his pulse had increased dramatically. He was even breathing deeper. Don pushed his fingers in deep and across the man's sweet spot once more. The more Danny groaned, the hotter Don became.

Danny's hands gripped the sheets tightly. He was starting to breathe harder. Everytime Don brushed against his prostate, little white lights danced behind his closed eyes. "Ohhhh God, Don, please... please..."

Don raised his head from Danny's cock but kept his fingers inside. He loved it when Danny begged him, and it didn't happen often. "Please, Danny? Please what?" Again, he pushed his long fingers deep into Danny, which elicited a strangled squeal out of his lover. "Please what? What do you want, Danny?"

"You," Danny blurted out. "On me. In me. Ohhhhh God please!" He swallowed hard and licked his lips.

Don smiled and eased his fingers out of Danny. He wasn't sure how prepared his friend was but he couldn't resist it when he begged. He reached over onto the night stand and snagged the condom that was laying next to his wallet, opened it and rolled it onto his own erection. He then positioned himself between Danny's legs. There weren't extra pillows laying around so Don lifted Danny's legs onto his shoulders in order to get his hips higher off the bed. The head of his cock rested against Danny's opening. "You sure, baby? This might hurt a little." He realized when he opened his mouth that both of them were too far gone to just ignore their little sensibilities or their sex drive, even though he know this would probably make Danny sore.

Danny's hands fisted into the sheets again. He was prepared for the worst but he wanted this so bad he couldn't think straight. His brain screamed out 'fuck me already' and his mouth blurted out an addendum: "Shaddup and fuck me already, Don."

Don pushed his throbbing member into Danny's body slowly but as smoothly as he could. He watched as Danny's face contorted into a painful wince and his mouth dropped open to cry out, but no sound came forth. "Breathe, Danny," he whispered when he noticed Danny turning a little blue from holding his breath.

Danny exhaled and the strangled cry was released. "Burnsssssssss," he whimpered. "It burns... God, Don..." He bit down on his lower lip against the sensation.

Don stopped moving about halfway into Danny's body. He took a few deep, controlling breaths while Danny got accustomed to his presence and intrusion. "I know, baby," he whispered. "I know... breathe... just breathe."

It took less than a minute for Danny's body to adjust. He opened his eyes and saw Don's expression as the man stared down at him: he was really concerned. Danny flashed him his lop-sided, killer smile as he caught his breath. "Okay," he panted. "I'm okay. Feel so full..."

Don's own expression lightened when he saw that smile he loved so much. "I'm not even halfway in babe," he told Danny. "I'm gonna move now, 'kay?"

Danny nodded and reached up to touch Don's shoulders. Don shifted his body and slid in a little further, then backed out about an inch. He rocked Danny slowly, in an inch, out an inch, and increased the distance a little with each thrust. In a few short minutes, Danny had relaxed to the point where he could thrust all the way in and nearly all the way out. He was careful not to come out completely, not for Danny's sake but for his own. He didn't want to be out of Danny's tight, lithe body. He belonged here.

Danny's eyes fell shut again and his mouth opened, his expression one of sheer pleasure. The pain was gone; all he could feel was his friend and lover rocking into him and the heat radiating off of him in waves. Don had this way about him; he could stretch both his physical and mental limitations beyond what Danny ever thought they could be pushed. Don had his back and he had his heart and he wasn't far from finding what remained of his soul. The only thing he still lacked was the courage to seriously say those three little words he swore he'd never be lucky enough to say to anyone.

Don knew he was close by the way his whole body seemed to tingle. A part of him really didn't want to orgasm because he knew when he did, that he would have to remove himself from inside Danny's body and he didn't want to leave him. Here, he felt alive. Here, he could hold Danny and make him feel everything that he felt too. He could hear Danny breathe out his name with every exhale and whimper his pleasure; pleasure that Don both gave and received.

Danny's orgasm was as much a surprise to him as it was for Don. He came suddenly, with little warning save for the bright white spark behind his eyes and the explosion he felt in his cock and balls. His whole body clenched with his release and he cried out Don's name.

When Danny's body tightened around his cock, Don lost it too. He heard Danny cry out his name and saw the white fluid splashed across Danny's lower chest. His own balls tightened, then released, spurting semen into the condom, buried deep and held inside Danny's ass. He panted for air as the orgasmic fuzz started to clear from his brain and he looked down into Danny's face once more. The man looked simply angelic, eyes closed, lips parted, and his expression thoroughly sated.

Reluctantly, Don pulled himself from Danny's body and eased the man's legs down on either side of him. He resisted the urge to pull off the condom immediately. Instead, he dropped his mouth to Danny's chest and licked all across it, cleaning the white fluid from his abdomen. He then scooted up and pressed his mouth to Danny's lips. His tongue darted in and Danny could taste the mixture of Don and a salty, bitter-like substance. "That me?" he murmured against Don's lips.

Don nodded. "That's all you, babe. Stay put; I'll be right back." He rolled out of the bed slowly, checking his own balance and coordination. He knew full well that Danny wasn't going anywhere, but it felt like the right thing to say anyway.

All Danny did was stir when Don's weight left the bed. "Where you goin'?" he mumbled.

Don smirked back at him. Danny, of all people, would thoroughly appreciate the next words out of his mouth. "I'm gettin' rid of the evidence, Messer."

Danny nodded and rested back into the bed. His whole body ached, yet at the same time, he felt like a wet, limp noodle. A _satisfied, sated _wet noodle. He wasn't sure what he did to deserve a friend like Don Flack. Don was so good to him... and _when the hell did Don start calling him 'babe' and 'baby'_? And why didn't he really care?

Don went back into the bathroom and removed the condom carefully. He dropped it into the toilet and flushed it. He then picked up a wet washcloth and wiped off his cock, his hands and the handle of the toilet. Finally, he turned on the sink water and rinsed out the wash cloth with soap. If someone wanted to find semen, they'd really have to search for it.

He headed back into the bedroom where Danny had once again curled himself into a ball in the bed. Don slipped under the covers and curled his body around behind Danny. "Messer?" He was rewarded with a incoherent, "hmm?" Don stroked Danny's hair away from his face and rested his arm across Danny's waist. "How you feelin' Danny? An' tell me the truth."

"Truth?" Danny mumbled. Don's body felt warm behind him and he pressed back against it. "Warmer... still cold but warmer than b'fore. Chest hurts a 'lil... ache everywhere." He paused and shifted his position slightly, pushing back even closer to Don. "Don? I jus' wanna..." his voice trailed off into incoherent mumblings.

Don tried to pick up what Danny was saying but the man was way too out of it to be even remotely clear. Still, he would swear to his dying day that one of the words Danny tried to say to him started with the letter L. Maybe he was hearing things; maybe it was wishful thinking. Somewhere between the frosted blond-haired punk colleague that irritated him to no end, to the man who cried out his name while they had sex, Don had fallen for Danny. He thought back to his other friends in the department and other women he'd dated and how people like them might see him differently if they knew how he felt about Danny. And once upon a time ago, he might have felt the same way if he'd heard a colleague was seeing another person of the same gender. But he knew he couldn't make that judgement anymore. Not now. Being with Danny didn't seem like a 'gay' thing... it was a _personal _thing. And it felt right. The man in his arms belonged there. Now all he had to do was make Danny feel the same way.

As dawn broke over the horizon, Mac, Stella, Lindsay and Sheldon, along with a dozen uniformed officers walked a wide line down the length of the beach. Winds whipped off the Atlantic and the snow depth varied from ankle deep to shoulder high in drifts. An officer pointed out an area to Mac.

"That's where the body was," he told the CSI's.

"Well it's not here now so they must have been here," Mac replied. He pulled the flaps of his coat higher and tighter around his neck and searched the area for any sign of his missing CSI and Detective Flack. The wind had erased any signs of footprints or the body. If the reporting officer hadn't come with them, he would never have known that this was the starting point for the search. "Fan out," he told the officers. "Grid search. If there's any sign of human life here, I want it. Anything from a button off a coat to a footprint."

Stella had stepped to the side and turned her back to both the Atlantic and the wind as she pressed her cell phone up to her ear. "C'monnn Danny... answer," she muttered. The phone continued to ring, unanswered. Finally she got his voice mail for the hundredth time and closed the line. She then dialed Flack's number, also for what seemed like the hundredth time.

As he stepped around Lindsay and a waist-high snow drift, a noise caught Mac's attention. It sounded like a cross between a cricket and an alarm... a distinct chirping. It stopped before he could find out what it was or where it was coming from. He turned and leveled his hazel eyes at Stella. "Who'd you just call?" he asked.

"I tried their cell phones again," Stella told him. She started to close hers up and put it in her coat pocket.

Mac raised a hand to stop her. "Who did you _JUST_ call?" he repeated.

She cocked her head at him the way she usually did when she was trying to get a bead on where his train of thought was leading. "Flack," she replied. "I got his voice mail."

"Call him again," Mac told her. "If you get his voice mail, hang up and dial again. I thought I heard something."

Stella nodded and redialed Flack's number. It rang five times before reverting to his automatic voice mail. She hung up and dialed once more. This time, after two rings, it stopped.

Mac heard the ringing as soon as it started and it seemed to be coming from somewhere within the drift next to where he stood. With gloved hands, he started to dig away the snow and followed the sound with his ear. Lindsay stepped up next to him and squatted down to help search. For a minute it stopped, then started up again. Sure enough, at the bottom of the drift's edge, Mac uncovered a ringing cell phone. He flipped it open and turned back to Stella. He held it up for her to see. "They were here," he announced.

Stella closed her phone and pocketed it. "They were here," she agreed. "And the body's not here which tells me that something happened that caused Flack to drop his phone." She looked around the area from where she stood. "No body, no Flack, no Danny, no sled, no gear." Her gaze fell on Mac once more.

"They're both smart enough not to tackle the bay or the Atlantic on a sled," Hawkes piped up. "If something happened and they had to head to shelter, there's only one of two directions they could go." He pointed out in each direction. "Question is, did they go back or did they go on?"

Mac looked in both directions and really didn't spot anything particularly close. "Stella, take Hawkes and a half-dozen uniforms and head down that way. Search everything on, under and around the boardwalk. Knock on every door; leave no rock unturned. I'll take Lindsay and head back. They can't have walked off the island; they're here somewhere. Whoever finds them first, call it in."

Stella nodded and motioned to Hawkes, who followed her. The officers split up among themselves. Half went with Stella and half went with Mac and Lindsay.

"I'll bet they're holed up somewhere," Lindsay told Mac as they walked back toward the boardwalk.

Mac nodded. "There's not much out here, and most of those houses we came past are closed up for the winter," he explained. "Still, I don't put it past either Flack or Danny to get into one of them if the situation were dire enough."

Lindsay glanced at her boss. "I just can't imagine what trouble those two could get into out here," she admitted as she glanced around once more.

Mac's lips formed into a tight smile. "Oh you'd be surprised," he replied. He stopped when they reached the edge of the boardwalk and looked at the houses. "Okay, thinking linear here... something has happened. They have a sled, a body and gear. It's snowing. It's getting dark. What do they do?"

Lindsay looked up and down the beach from the bay side to the Atlantic. "Half a dozen houses on this first line," she remarked. "Do we split up or start at one end and work our way down?"

"Little of both," Mac told her as he started toward the Sound side of the area. "I'll check the first house in this line, you check the second. I'll move to the third and you take the fourth, and so on." He looked at the half-dozen uniformed officers with them. "Start on the second row of houses and move inward. Also check under the boardwalk, in yards and anywhere else that might possibly hold three bodies." The officers split up to start their search.

She nodded and stepped up to the second house from the shoreline. It appeared closed up for the winter and there was no sign of life.

Mac checked the first house and found it to be empty. When he checked the third house from the shoreline, he found it occupied. The owners, a couple about his age, admitted they hadn't seen nor heard anything unusual that past night. He thanked them and moved on to the next house on the line, bypassing the one Lindsay had checked. He started toward the porch when he heard her call out, "Mac!"

Mac heard her call out and headed over to the sound of her voice. She stood on the edge of the property and was looking at the front porch. His eyes followed her focus. Laying on the porch was a sled, several plastic trash bags and a body. A panel of glass next to the front door was broken and what looked like a coat was pushed into the hole. Mac nodded to Lindsay and started toward the door. "Call Stella," he said. "I think we found them."

Mac wasn't surprised when he found the door unlocked. He poked his head in first and glanced around. "Flack? Danny?" He pushed the door open all the way and stepped in. Just as a precaution, he drew his sidearm and surveyed the living room. Danny's kit lay open just inside the door. Clothes, blankets and garbage bags were scattered around the couch.

"Mac?" Lindsay called from the doorway. She had just called Stella, then picked up an article of clothing from the sled. "Isn't this Danny's jacket?" Mac looked over. The article of clothing that Lindsay was holding up was frozen stiff. He nodded to her. "Looks like all of Danny's clothes here and they're all like this... frozen," Lindsay added.

"It's starting to add up," Mac told her. "I'm guessing that Danny somehow fell into the bay and Flack pulled him out. "They worked their way back here to warm up, only it's not very warm in here. Which would put them..." he trailed off and started down the hall.

When he first opened the bedroom door, he spotted a pillar candle nearly burned down to the base. It was nestled in a bowl half-filled with water. He glanced at the bed and saw two tufts of hair, one darker than the other. Both Don and Danny were in the center of the bed, spooned together for warmth. Don's arm rested over Danny's side. Mac watched them both for a minute, making sure that he saw both chests rising and falling. "Flack?" Mac called out quietly. "Danny?"

Neither man moved. Mac stepped further into the room and reached out to touch Don, who was the closest to him. "Flack?"

Somewhere in his sleep, Don swore he heard someone calling to him. When someone touched his shoulder, he was nudged into coherency and he rolled onto his back. It sounded like... "Mac?"

Mac smiled and waited until the fuzzies left the detective's brain. "Rescue team's here," he said. "Are you hurt?"

They both heard a soft gasp and Mac turned to see Lindsay in the doorway with her jaw nearly to her knees. She seemed to recover quick enough and she turned away enough to give some measure of privacy.

Don glanced at Lindsay, then at Mac and finally to the sleeping man next to him. "We're okay, Mac," he finally said. "It was a long, cold night but we're both okay."

"Danny fell through the ice into the bay, didn't he?" Mac walked around to the other side of the bed to check on his CSI for himself.

Flack nodded. "Yeah. He went out onto the ice to retrieve a piece of evidence and fell through the ice. Gotta give him props, though, Mac... he hung onto the thing."

Mac nodded. "It's a reflex for the muscles to contract," he told Don. "And it's likely he took in some water because the first response to cold water is gasping." He reached under the cover and laid his hand lightly on Danny's shoulder, then slid it down the length of his arm, checking the man's temperature. Danny still seemed a little on the cool side to Mac's touch, but when he put his fingers on Danny's chest, the man recoiled against the cold. "Danny?" Mac nudged him. "Danny..."

"Hmmm?" Danny was finally comfortable and warm. He wondered what was with everyone poking, nudging or bothering him? Couldn't they see he was trying to sleep? "G'way... sleepin'."

Flack tried to hide the fact that he was laughing over Danny's reaction, but wasn't even marginally successful. "He's been pretty incoherent since I pulled him out, Mac," he admitted. "I was getting partial, coherent thoughts last night outta him but he still seems pretty out of it."

_'This has to stop_,' Danny thought. Aloud, he mumbled, "Would you two shut up? I'm tryin' to sleep here."

Mac shook his head, smirked and tapped Danny's cheek with the back of his hand. "Messer... wake up. You're late for work."

Danny's bright blue eyes finally opened and registered his surroundings. Once he realized that Flack was behind him, Mac was standing in front of him and he was in a strange house, he groaned. "I'm gonna put in for a transfer someplace warmer, Mac," he said a bit louder. "CSI Hawaii, maybe."

"You'd be shark bait," Lindsay piped up from the door.

Danny glanced over at her back - she was still facing away from them - and shook his head. "Shaddup, Montana," he muttered good-naturedly. "Nobody pulled your chain."

"I brought coffee..." she teased back.

Danny propped himself up on his elbows while his mind shifted gears. "Then you get to be my second favorite person today, seconded only to anyone who brought warm, dry clothes."

"That would be me," Mac told him. "I'll have two snow suits and thermals brought down here. Until then, you two lay back and stay warm." He headed out of the bedroom and took Lindsay with him while he radioed ahead for what they would need to get the guys back to Manhattan. They still had several things to deal with. Lindsay started a list for Mac as he did a walk-through of the house. The window that Flack broke would have to be replaced, as would the candles that they used. Mac told her to add laundering everything that the two men used including blankets, sheets and towels and cleaning for the sofa and floors. While Lindsay worked on the list, Mac talked with the local officer to get the home owner's alternate address. Mac would explain the situation to the owners, make sure they were compensated for any inconvenience they experienced and express his gratitude on behalf of the New York PD. He left his business card on the counter and jotted a reminder in his own notebook to send over something for the owners for when they returned.

Back in the bedroom, Danny laid back down and turned to face Flack. "Don..." he said slowly. He licked his lips to moisten them and turned his blue eyes toward Flack's. "...thanks. For everything."

Don leaned down and pressed his lips to Danny's.

Ten days later...

Danny coughed and hacked into the phone receiver. Being cold and wet had taken its toll on his immune system; he was as sick as he could be and still be allowed to remain home. "Mac?" his voice sounded horrible, almost non-existent. "Mac, I just can't come in today," he choked out. "I'm runnin' a fever an' coughin' an..." Mac knew he was sick. The call was more of a formality. Danny had been battling whatever he had come down with for several days before this, but he had gone to work to try to push through it. Now it caught up to him full force. There was no way he was getting up today.

On the other end of the line, Mac pulled the phone away from his ear for a minute until Danny's coughing spell subsided. "Danny, you sound horrible," he admitted. "Did you see a doctor like I told you to?"

"Yeah," Danny croaked. "I got antibiotics and some cough syrup that's knockin' me on my ass. He told me to stay in bed so that's what I'm doin'. But I thought I should call an' tell ya I'm not comin' in."

"Okay, Danny, we'll manage," Mac told him. "Do what you're told and stay in bed, take your meds and be well before you come back. Nobody here wants it."

"Yeah, thanks Mac. I will. Bye." Danny closed his cell phone and rolled onto his back, directly into Don's body. He nudged the detective with one hand. "Your turn," he practically squeaked. His voice was definitely going someplace without the rest of him.

Don groaned. The thought of even lifting his head was too much. His head pounded, his throat was sore and screamed at him every time he swallowed and there wasn't a single spot on his body that didn't ache. He knew he had to call in also; he was just working up the energy to lift the cell phone. "I notice you didn't tell Mac whose bed you were in," Don pointed out. His voice was also going; it was all bass and scratchy. "You didn't tell him you were at my apartment."

Danny shrugged. "Semantics," he retorted. "A bed's a bed. Doc told me to stay in bed; I'm in bed. An' you sound as bad as I feel."

"Likewise, I'm sure," Don chided him back. He finally collected enough energy to pick up his cell phone and dial the precinct. "Captain Raithe, please... yes I'll hold." He sank back into the pillow, too tired to hold his arm up to his head.

After a long, silent pause, Danny figured that Don was on hold for his boss and it was safe to ask him something. "Don?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you really get chicken soup ordered in that one time you were sick?"

Don turned his head enough so that he could see Danny's slightly glassy blue eyes looking intently into his own. "Yeah, I did," he admitted. "Why?"

Danny flipped open his cell phone once more. "Gimme the number."

FIN


End file.
